The Life and Times of JK Rowling
by MarinaJackson
Summary: Maybe JK Rowling's inspiration for the Harry Potter books came from a different source. Sorry for the bad summary and title but HOPEFULLY the fanfic will be better. Disclaimer for the entire story: This is purely fiction and was written with good intent. Please do not take anything I put in here, to heart. Thank you! One-shot.


Joanne Rowling hurried through the crowd, already late for another job interview. I can't be tardy for the third job interview! Pursing her lips, she pulled her beige overcoat tightly over her and sped up.

However, this sudden burst of speed caused her to bump into a tall man with black, untidy hair. Her hand flew to cover her mouth. "Blimey! I'm so terribly sorry." she fussed as she tried to straighten out the stranger's coat.

The man backed up and bumped into someone behind him and mumbled something indiscernible. "Pardon?" she asked politely. The man scurried away from her and in his rush to do so, something clattered from out of his pocket. The glint of glass caught her eye and she stooped down to pick it up.

"Mr…. Black hair! You've dropped something!" inwardly cursing herself for her creative nickname and just not being loud enough. She was about to throw the shard of glass away (as it was dangerous to leave sharp pieces of glass lying around) when she checked her watch. Her eyes widened and she nearly shrieked. She would never make it now. Unless… she ran.

The glass was momentarily forgotten and Joanne reached her destination without further incident.

She stepped out of the building with a dejected look plastered on her face. Fighting the cold wind, she made the long trek back to her small apartment near the Thames.

Her child greeted her at the door with a bright smile. Her friend had done her a favor and picked up Jessica at her school. Her heart ached at the sight of her child's immature optimism. How I have missed those days of no stress. "How was your job…. Interfew?" Jessica's nose scrunched up, attempting to recollect the 3 syllable word.

Almost grimacing despite the despair buried deep in her heart, Joanne picked up Jessica and buried her nose into her daughter's hair. It smelled like happiness, glitter, and unicorns. Just like a child should. Not wanting to burden her child with any more unwanted grief, she said, "Splendidly. And how was your day?"

Jessica's bright laughter rang throughout the minute flat. "Kaylah taught me how to draw horsies today!" "Is that so?" she smiled at her enthusiasm. Jessica nodded vigorously but not before her mother detected the note of sleepiness in her eyes. "Time for bed." Joanne announced as she scooped the 5-year old up.

Unwilling to put up a fight that particular day, Jessica's head drooped until it came to a rest against her mother's shoulder. Soon, she was snoring loudly in her pink, pink, pink room.

Joanne smiled fondly at the child's sleeping figure but was quickly reminded of life's harsh realities when she shut the door to her daughter's room. Sinking to her knees, she let out a choked sob. She had a good cry right then and there. She brushed off her tears and stood back up shakily to take 5 steps to the hallway loo. Her hands slipped into the pockets of her cozy coat when a sudden pain erupted at her hands.

Quickly withdrawing her hands, she pulled them into the light to discover a shallow cut on her index finger. Sighing, she entered the bathroom to pull out the band-aids. After safely applying the band-aid to the said wound, she pulled the mysterious mirror for further examination. All of a sudden, a grey eye appeared out of nowhere and she shrieked, nearly dropping it. The eye moved out of focus and soon, a man's face frowned at her. He would've been good-looking if not for the weariness that sagged on his face which weighed heavily on his appearance.

"Who are you?" Joanne stuttered, unaccustomed to men appearing in shards of glass. "You're not Harry." remarked the man. "Do I look like a man to you?" she snapped, having no patience to deal with such acts of stupidity. The man raised his arms in a placating manner and said, "Don't get your knickers in a twist. But in my defense, you're not supposed to be here. This here exchange is for wizarding eyes only."

"Wizards?" she managed to get out. The man's eyes furrowed and then scowled, "You're a muggle, aren't you?" That change in expression faintly reminded her of someone she had seen before. "Yes? While we're young?" prompted the stranger. Joanne soon realized who he was.

"You're Sirius Black! That mass murderer! But you're supposed to be dead!" she all but screamed. "And you're a muggle." Sirius stated, without denying the former accusation.

"Will you stop with the Muggle thing?" She yelled out in exasperation. "I need to turn you into the authorities." Joanne blabbered to herself. "Hold on! I'm innocent!" Black cried. Raising an eyebrow before remembering who she was talking to, Joanne said, "And I'm Merlin."

Black snorted. "I've seen Merlin and I'm pretty sure you don't look like him." Joanne paused and stared at the convict. "You've seen Merlin?" doubt laced into her carefully worded question.

Sirius hesitated, "No." he squeaked. "I'm not sure I believe you." Sirius muttered to himself, "What I wouldn't give to be alive and be able to perform a Memory Charm." "Excuse me? I'm right here." Rowling commented.

Black sighed and looked at Joanne thoughtfully. "I'm going to regret this but I'm bored as heck now so why not. Ok, I'm going to tell you something but directly right after I do, you have to return this mirror to its rightful owner." Always a sucker for stories, her cautiousness of a wanted man waned and she caved in. "Fine."

Joanne gaped at him in shock, her jaw slack. "No way." she said, as she massaged her lower jaw. Sirius smirked at her. "It's all true." She frowned at him but the glare was a bit toned down this time.

A thought suddenly popped into her mind and she voiced her question tentatively, "Could I use your story as a book?" Before he could say anything she interceded, "The tale's so fantastic anyways, nobody would believe it's true. I won't even mention you giving me inspiration."

Black fingered his dark locks, pondering this proposition. "I guess there's no harm…" he ventured as her eyes flashed in victory. But he hastily added, "Don't try to reveal too much. And you still have to return this to Harry." Now having much reverence for the proclaimed The Boy Who Lived, she nodded solemnly.

"Now for an author's name." she clasped her hands eagerly. The ends of Black's lips turned down. "What's wrong with your real name?" Acting like she was reprimanding a 6-year-old boy, she lectured, "Most people won't buy a book if it was written by a woman. So I'll have to come up with a gender-neutral name."

"Your name is Joanne Rowling right?" Sirius asked. Joanne nodded. "And you have no middle name?" She nodded again in affirmation. "Well, is there someone you admire?" feeling exasperated for feeling this was a one-sided conversation.

Rowling's eyes lit up and she slowly drawled, "Well, I've always like the name Kathleen and that was my paternal grandmother's name."

Sirius's eyes gleamed and he grinned. "How about JK Rowling?"

Harry was at wit's end, frantically pacing the floor of his bedroom in Godric's Hollow. He was only in the muggle area of London to buy a birthday gift for Lily. He could've just gotten it in Diagon Alley. Ginny reclined on the bed, calmly reading a book. She glanced up. "It's fine, Harry. Can't you just perform a Summoning charm?"

He froze and sheepishly pulled his wand from the folds of his robes. "Of course! Why didn't I think about that?" mentally facepalming himself. Ginny got up from her place in bed and patted her husband's back. "That mirror was your only connection to Sirius and everybody else… up there…. so it only makes sense that you would lose your mind over this."

Harry pulled his wife into a close embrace and murmured, "What would I do without you?" Ginny smiled mischievously, "You would probably die of boredom or something along the lines of that." He snorted but silently conceded the point to his beautiful spouse.

Focusing on the task at hand again, he slipped his wand into his hand and uttered the words, "Acc-," when a knocking sounded from the 1st floor of the house. Looking over at Ginny confusedly, she shrugged and so the two walked down the stairs.

The house was dark and the moon and stars were out, twinkling merrily in the night sky. Their wands lighted the way in the light-less dwelling as the couple stopped right before the door. Harry had the strangest feeling of deja vu. Was this was James Potter had felt when he had ordered his wife and newborn baby to flee? Shivering, Harry gripped his wand tightly and opened the door.

Harry and Ginny raised their wands to find only a blonde woman, heavily clad in a coat and a hat. Recognition filled Harry. This was the lady who had bumped into him yesterday. "How did you find us?" he asked, not sure if he should be scared or not.

The woman's blue eyes sparkled just as bright as the stars behind her as she said, "Harry Potter, right?" Wary now, Ginny spoke, "This is he and I'm his wife. Do you want something?" Her tone was polite but forced.

The stranger's eyes widened, "No, no, no! I've come to return this to you!" She presented a small parcel, wrapped in burlap. Curious, he unwrapped it to find a small piece of glass lying there. He looked up to thank the good Samaritan but she was gone.

2 and a half years later….

"Dad! Dad!" Lily shrieked as Harry stooped down to give his daughter a bone-crushing hug. "How was your first day of muggle primary School, sweetness?" giving his favorite daughter a fond look.

"It was great!" the red-hair gushed, "And you're famous, Dad! How come you've never told me?" "Famous?" asked Harry, jokingly. Out of nowhere, Lily procured a thick book that said in the front, "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." Near the bottom of the book it read, "Written by JK Rowling."

Dumbfounded, he flipped to the back of the book to see the author's page. He wanted to know who had uncovered his secrets and was responsible for his fame in the muggle world. There smiling at him, was the blonde woman on the wintry doorstep 2 ½ years before.

 **Author Notes:**

Any of this information that is false was made up by me so to cast away any confusion… this is all probably untrue.

 **Please R &R**


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